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FAITH.
HEBREWS XI. 1.
O give me faith, that I may antedate
The life to come! Let me at once ascend
The moral Pisgah in life's wilderness.
Whence my delighted spirit may behond,
Beyond the narrow bourne of life and time,
Those promised regions where the blessed dwell
In light ineffable, amidst eternity.
there, in rapt vision, from that height of faith,
My soul looks onward, as the seer of old,
(But ah! more blest than he, who only saw,
But never could approach,) and views afar
All joy, all ecstasy, all glory bright, diffused
Around the throne of the Omnipotent--
Like (though how far beneath!) the gorgeous
gathering
Of morning skies around the rising son--
And hears enraptured, bursting from the lips
Of cherub and of seraph, tones that tell
The swelling raptures of an angel's breast.
O! when such sights and sounds rush on the soul
In this, its mortal thrall, how doth it strive
To burst the fetters of the flesh, and spring
To life eternal, midst angelic throng!
W. C. Preston
Sunday, Nov. 13, 1831
"THE OLD CAROLINA STATE."
BY PROF. L. F. WHITAKER, OF GOLDSBORO.
My native State, the glorious first
In Freedom's book of Fame!
My tuneful lyre awakes its strains
In honor to thy name!--Repeat last line.
Chorus.--The Old Carolina State!
The Old Carolina State!
My tuneful lyre awakes its strains
In honor of thy name!
The sacred flame of liberty
That burns so bright to-day
Did in thy children's noble hearts
First shed its cheering ray.
Thy daughters, first on glory's list!
The purest! fairest! best!
As true as powder to the spark,
When tried by war's rude test!
In every land where patrior hearts
At Freedom's shrine adore,
Thy name is praised; while patriot lips
The care of Heaven implore.

FAITH.
HEBREWS XI. 1.
O give me faith, that I may antedate
The life to come! Let me at once ascend
The moral Pisgah in life's wilderness.
Whence my delighted spirit may behond,
Beyond the narrow bourne of life and time,
Those promised regions where the blessed dwell
In light ineffable, amidst eternity.
there, in rapt vision, from that height of faith,
My soul looks onward, as the seer of old,
(But ah! more blest than he, who only saw,
But never could approach,) and views afar
All joy, all ecstasy, all glory bright, diffused
Around the throne of the Omnipotent--
Like (though how far beneath!) the gorgeous
gathering
Of morning skies around the rising son--
And hears enraptured, bursting from the lips
Of cherub and of seraph, tones that tell
The swelling raptures of an angel's breast.
O! when such sights and sounds rush on the soul
In this, its mortal thrall, how doth it strive
To burst the fetters of the flesh, and spring
To life eternal, midst angelic throng!
W. C. Preston
Sunday, Nov. 13, 1831
"THE OLD CAROLINA STATE."
BY PROF. L. F. WHITAKER, OF GOLDSBORO.
My native State, the glorious first
In Freedom's book of Fame!
My tuneful lyre awakes its strains
In honor to thy name!--Repeat last line.
Chorus.--The Old Carolina State!
The Old Carolina State!
My tuneful lyre awakes its strains
In honor of thy name!
The sacred flame of liberty
That burns so bright to-day
Did in thy children's noble hearts
First shed its cheering ray.
Thy daughters, first on glory's list!
The purest! fairest! best!
As true as powder to the spark,
When tried by war's rude test!
In every land where patrior hearts
At Freedom's shrine adore,
Thy name is praised; while patriot lips
The care of Heaven implore.